An archive of personal & political considerations

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40 Days of Writing, Day 12: Letter to My Son

You walk with your hands behind you.? You open your mouth real wide “aaaaaahhhh” after you drink something, like you’ve been in the Sahara desert with no water for days and savoring the quenched feeling.? You repeat things that your Dad prompts you to say.? Today, on a walk, your dad and I could’ve sworn you said “doggie” when we pointed one out and said it over and over to you.

You talk to yourself in the crib in the morning, like prepping yourself up for the day.? You smile excitedly when we we clap our hands or sing “If You’re Happy and You Know It Clap Your Hands.”? You love Capri Sun juice.

You walked outside for the first time this past week.? Up and down our sidewalk, you just took your time, observing the world.? For 10 minutes straight, you sat on the concrete, examining my keys.

You appear to know what “bed” means because when we say it, you lay your head on my or your dad’s shoulder.? Sometimes going down without even a peep of a protest.? This, along with your general good natured attitude, gives oomph to your dad’s assertion that if we decide to have another child, there’s no way s/he will be as well-behaved and laid back as you are.? It’s impossible for God to be that generous.

You’re a peaceful soul, observing others and keeping to yourself.? You’re not shy, but you definitely watch.? I think you get that from me.

But all these things can’t really sum up the 15 months you have been alive.? It only scratches the surface of the past WEEK.? You spring new noises and habits every other day and it’s a pure gift to witness your development first hand.

The first day of spring has brought more sunshine to your life.? That’s the least we can do when you’ve given so much light to ours.